


Naruto Founders and the Goblet of Fire

by PeacefulDiscord



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Naruto
Genre: Book 4: Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, Character bashing or the truth? IDK I'm spiteful, F/M, Fluff, Humor, I started fic-ranting, I'd say I'm sorry JK but sorry jk, It was meant to be short and sweet, M/M, Magic, Mentions of War, Then I was enabled
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-10
Updated: 2020-08-21
Packaged: 2021-03-05 04:13:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25188502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PeacefulDiscord/pseuds/PeacefulDiscord
Summary: Going to school with the Harry Potter, trouble-magnet extraordinaire, was tiring enough. Hashirama would like it if his brother and best friend didn't add to that, thank you very much.Or the one that was meant to be the prompt for MadaTobi Week: Magical Bonding and has, instead, become its own entityPlease note that this fic is intended to end midway through the fourth book rather than to the end
Relationships: Reto/Senju Kawarama, Senju Hashirama/Uchiha Izuna/Uzumaki Mito, Senju Tobirama/Uchiha Madara
Comments: 14
Kudos: 74
Collections: MadaTobi Week 2020





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [antukini](https://archiveofourown.org/users/antukini/gifts).



> Guys, I don't know what happened. I was overly enabled by many people
> 
> @sleepysensei I think you lit the most fire behind this fic, you amazing bean. If anyone likes this, you really have Sleepy to thank, okay? I just happened to be here lol
> 
> Also, thank you @QueenPotema who beta'd this-- things would have been confusing without you <3
> 
> Warnings: Profanity and innuendo

The Great Hall was abuzz with nervous energy— the Gryffindors seemingly in their own bubble of exuberance while the rest of the school hummed anxiously, like a Muggle car engine kicking and starting, failing, and then cranking up again. It was hushed and loud, whispering voices overlapping even while Gryffindor paraded their supposed triumph that the other Houses did not share. It was revolting really, the good cheer they treated something as good as a death sentence but no one ever said Gryffindors made sense, far too content to bang their fists on their chests and rush headless into the fray, paying no mind to what lay within or on the other side.

Hufflepuff, however, had felt a similar sense of pride when Cedric Diggory had been chosen, gleeful for once that their House had not been overlooked in favor of the more bold of their peers. Now it was as if someone had plucked the bristles of their brooms, leaving them, once again, grounded from their short-lived excitement. It almost felt unfair.

The other Houses also seemed to feel similarly, disgruntled once again that Harry Potter had overtaken their chances. Even the Beauxbatons and Durmstrang students seemed to pick up on the negativity, huddling in all the available table space that wasn't Gryffindor. It was almost as if the house of the lion had become a pariah of the pride, the rest keeping their distance.

Dirty looks and cruel rumors danced throughout the room, worsening from person to person, and it was only time before it landed on the right person's ears. Or the wrong person's, depending on how one wanted to look at the situation. It was only time before the tension boiled over and Kawarama hated it, hated the way it prickled at his neck. He needed a distraction, a—

"Anyone surprised that Harry Potter was chosen for the Tournament," Reto asked absently around a mouthful of porridge as he scourged over his notes. He was the only Hufflepuff appearing unaffected by the events altogether, too busy with the upcoming NEWTS despite them have a whole school year to prepare. "I mean, he's not even of age."

A glob of porridge fell past his lips, spattering across his books, and Reto let out a woeful whine. He looked to his hand that held his spoon and the other that held his book open before turning to Kawarama with pleading eyes. "Babe—"

Kawarama rolled his eyes, scrunching his nose at his boyfriend's manners even as he magicked the mess away, restraining himself at the very last moment so he wouldn't fling it into someone's (preferably from Beauxbaton— they'd overstayed their welcome an hour after their arrival, arrogant prats, the lot of them) face.

"Hardly, love. He's got Voldemort and his dead cronies—"

"Death Eaters, love," Reto corrected helpfully, for the thousandth or so time since knowing Kawarama. The younger boy made no sign of hearing him, continuing,

"—after him. Nothing is a surprise at this point."

"Really hasn't been since first year, yeah? The only real concern is what kind of trouble that'd spell for the Tournament" Itama pointed out, sauntering over from the Slytherin table and settling beside Kawarama. He loaded up a plate, setting it down in front of him and taking out a stack of papers from his bag, each page, from what Kawarama could see, almost completely black with the amount of words inked across. The younger boy then took out a single blank sheet, murmuring a spell over the stack before grabbing a quill as well. "Otherwise, it's kind of the norm now."

"Why can't your brother be like that?" Madara demanded from a distance away, hair frizzing up as his magic seemed to surge in his rage, clearly having overheard as he stomped over to the table. He threw himself into his seat, angrily pulling a plate of inarizushi towards him. "Why can't he be normal and predictable? You know where I found him last night? The bloody Restricted Section. Again. He got detention for another three months because this is the fourth time I caught him breaking the damn rules—"

Kawarama arched a brow, pausing mid-bite of his own food. "I'm impressed, I mean, the school year's barely even started—"

" _This_ week," Madara bit out. "Not for the school year. This fucking _week_."

Reto whistled, casting an envious look at his work. "Damn, I wish I had that energy."

"I'd transfigure your head into a toilet seat and leave you in the loo," Madara snarled, wand pressed against the column of Reto's throat.

"Not my kink," Kawarama drawled lazily, smirking at the disgust marring Madara's face. Picking up his food again, he glanced at Itama who was busily copying the already written essay onto the blank page. "Is that Tobi's paper?"

"No," Itama said shortly, hunching over the papers a bit to hide it from Kawarama's view.

Madara peered quizzically over his inarizushi, speaking around a mouthful. "Yes it is. I recognize it when I was aiding Professor Burbage with Tobirama's class. Merlin knows that Muggle Studies course only knocked him further off his rocker. Bloody thing was meant to be eleven inches and he wrote damn near eleven pages on the relation of Muggle invention and innovation to Wizarding spells and the promise it could have for future developments. I'd recognize his handwriting looking at it from under water— fucking seared it into my mind with that essay." A look of fear crossed Madara's face. "You're not going to copy the whole thing, are you?"

"You know, you never talk so much unless you're complaining about my brother. Write him a sonnet, will you, instead of badgering us about him," Itama sneered, looking delighted as Madara sputtered in horror. "And you did Izuna's homework so piss off."

"I was just asking—"

Suddenly Madara screeched, cutting off his own sentence to spit his food onto the table, the inarizushi falling out of his hands. Small orange beads rolled out from the tofu pouch.

 _"Roe!"_ He swore viciously, wiping a napkin across his tongue. " _Disgusting!_ How the hell did that even—" Madara froze for a breath, realization dawning on his face. "Senju!"

Red-faced and accusing Madara spun around towards the Ravenclaw table, finger jabbing in the direction of his supposed offender. The boy in question was sitting on the bench furthest from the Hufflepuff table, lounging almost carelessly, wand still pointed at Madara. Tobirama grinned, nudging a cackling Hikaku beside him, and waved his wand. A white light flashed for just a moment before the white haired boy seemingly disappeared from sight.

"Oh a Disillusionment charm, you pathetic piece of—" Madara fumbled for his own wand, muttering spells beneath his breath.

The doors of the Great Hall slammed shut, a barrier erecting itself in front of it. Dozens of tiny mirrors appeared about the room, all positioned in different angles. Silver plates, cups, and silverware levitated, much to the anger and dismay of the others eating, and suddenly sparkled as the food from them vanished, each one positioning itself somewhere about the room. Madara murmured something quickly, aiming his spell to one mirror and letting science lead the rest, the spell ricocheting and reflecting across the room in a series of blinding flashes.

Suddenly, it hit the air, spreading out like ripples in water, color seeping from the center out. Tobirama stood, wide-eyed in his surprise, right beside the professors' table. Professor Flitwick, surprisingly, looked the least startled, dropping his head into his hands with a "Oh no, not this again, Mr. Senju."

Tobirama's wand sparked suddenly.

"You!" Madara growled, stabbing his wand towards Tobirama. "You put roe in my food! You know I hate roe!"

"You made me get detention! Again! I've got to clean the Owlery without magic for three fucking months!" Tobirama snapped, waving his own wand with threat. He stormed down the stairs, stopping only a few scant feet away from Madara, stood as though readying himself for a duel.

Madara mirrored his stance, tip of his wand already beginning to glow. "If you didn't break the fucking rules—"

"Mind your own fucking business—"

"I'd mind your fucking face—"

"That doesn't even make sense! You—"

The professors fluttered around trying to calm the two teenagers but they weren't listening. With a huff, Tobirama swept his wand across the room, gathering the dishes and making them hover in the air above Madara's head, before, with a resounding poof, they refilled with food and upturned, spilling pies, meats, potatoes, and jellies onto the older teen. Madara shrieked, slashing his own wand across the air and transfiguring the food into bubbles. With a cry of rage, he directed the bubbles at Tobirama who stood looking at him, wholly unimpressed.

Until they transformed into slices of soggy, rotten cucumber and sticky rubber frogs at the very last second.

Red eyes widened just slightly, horrified, and Tobirama toppled backwards, a yelp leaving his lips as he was buried beneath slimy green.

Suddenly their wands zipped from their hands, landing in the palm of a furious Professor McGonagall. "Would you boys care to explain exactly what you think you're doing?"

"Is it just me or is it obvious what they were doing?" Hikaku asked, having wandered over along with Mito and Izuna during the fight.

"You'd think so but that's because you understand them. Tobi spelled them so they wouldn't be able to use a translating spell. They were speaking in Japanese," Mito gave a coy smile.

"Oh, to go to school with mostly English speakers," Izuna smirked, snagging the uneaten inarizushi from Madara's plate. "I forget how convenient it could be."

They turned back just as Madara's wand sparked amid McGonagall's lecture.

"— as Head Boy, you're to uphold proper behavior and lead by example! I do hope, for your sake, that you have a sensible reason for this reckless and childish display, Mr. Uchiha."

Madara winced. "Umm I was helping Tobi—"

White hair popped up above the green, a touch frantically. "Practice for a future Transfiguration exam. I was having difficulties."

"Ah yes, I recall you saying you had trouble with that, Mr. Senju," Flitwick squeaked. "But this isn't quite the time nor place for it."

"Difficulties—" McGonagall sputtered slightly, poise failing her for a moment. "He's passing my course with the highest marks I've _seen_!"

"This is how I get those high marks," Tobirama looked the picture of innocence, smiling benignly even while giving Madara a quick, significant glance. "Madara doesn't like actually testing my skill unless I goad him, unfortunately."

"I worry he'd get hurt!" Madara smiled pleasantly, the edges just a tad too sharp to be genuine. "I know he's talented but with the dueling club and the rigor of my courses, I'm at a level where I feel going all out against someone like Tobirama would be dangerous. I still haven't used all my skill, clearly, but it's obvious I needn't to."

Tobirama scoffed, something like a grimace playing across his lips as he removed himself from the pile. With a squirm of disgust, he shook his robes free of the slimey objects, shuddering at the goo sticking to his hands. "I would argue it wasn't so much my lack of as it was that I didn't think you were so clever. I've seen your duels with Anija after all."

Kawarama whistled softly from atop the table, too short to have seen the duel after the taller kids, including Hashirama, had gathered in front of his view. He tossed a look at said older brother, wincing pityingly. Hashirama's expression was confusing— an odd mix of pride and offense, flustering over the insult and praise implied with such a back-handed compliment and taking exception for the sake of Madara's own ego. "Really not pulling his punches, is he?"

Hashirama sniffled, glancing back him with watery eyes.

"Not at all! I'm not even a part of the situation and he's still mean to me," he wailed dramatically. "What happened to my sweet little brother who was so kind and considerate of my feelings—"

"The hell you get a brother like that from," Itama asked, baffled. "You're literally our favorite punching bag."

Suddenly, the headmaster stood, cutting off Hashirama before he could flood the Great Hall with his tears.

"Uh-oh, Dumbledore's standing. What'd think he's going to do," some girl asked from nearby, just about shaking with nerves.

"I'm sure we'll find out if we just wait and listen, Marietta," Itama said brightly, lips pulled into a sweet smile that, to the people who knew him well, meant he was despairing for your intelligence and internally rolling his eyes hard enough to knock out of his own head.

"Oh, right. Of course."

Itama smiled a little wider until the girl turned away, before hissing an incredulous _"How in the world is she a Ravenclaw?"_ into Kawarama's ear without dropping his smile even a fraction.

"Perhaps this discussion would be better if taken outside," Dumbledore's eyes twinkled. "I wouldn't want to scare our guests, after all."

Igor Karkaroff bristled at the implication though Madame Maxime just nodded primly. "Yes, it is a rather unpleasant start to breakfast, Dumbledore."

"Very well," he clapped his hands. "I hope you've finished eating. I'm afraid I only have lemon pops to offer."

With that said, he took the wands from McGonagall and led Tobirama and Madara away. The two boys dragged behind the headmaster, sullen and glaring accusingly at each other, trying and failing to be discreet in their dislike but still overly preoccupied with the other to notice all the looks and chittering they'd garnered. With a few flicks of his wand, Dumbledore restored the hall to its previous arrangement, vanishing the barrier from the door, and whisking out with a gentle flap of his robes before anyone could really blink. Soon enough the hall resettled, everyone going back to the previous topic of interest with nary a thought to the two boys that made Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter look tame.

"I'm so done," Hashirama slumped onto the table, head just barely avoiding a plate of soggy cereal in front of him. "They refuse to even try to get along."

"This fighting finally get to you, then?" Izuna hummed, mockingly pitying, patting the older boy's arms even as he rolled his eyes. "What a shame, truly. You had had so much hope. I'm glad you've finally seen sense enough to give up. By the way, you owe me, Hikaku."

"No!" Hashirama shot up. "Wait, you bet on me? That's so mean, Izuna," he pouted, rapping Izuna's hand with his wand and watching gleefully as the younger boy's hair suddenly sprouted upwards, flower blossoms growing at the ends. Izuna squawked, jumping back to seize his own wand and hurriedly returning it to the stylishly unkempt ponytail he kept it in. "No, I'm not giving up. I just...I just need a new plan! Something that'll force them to get along."

"Damnit," Izuna checked his hair in the shine of a cup, tucking in a few strands here and there before grumpily passing his money to Hikaku, who saluted Hashirama thankfully. "Why don't you just bond them then? Link them up so they have to get along and sing in meadows or whatever bullshit it is you go on about. That should do the trick."

The sarcasm was, of course, obvious to everyone except Hashirama.

The brunette's eyes lit up, and he clasped his hands together.

"That's a great idea, Izuna! Come on, let's go to the library and see if we can find some binding magic!"

Without another word, the older boy grabbed the other, half carrying him out of the dining area, ignoring, much like the rest of the room, the cries of protest that echoed about the room.

"Well, this should be interesting," Touka drawled. "Who do you think will be killed first? Hashirama now, or Madara when he and Tobi get bonded?"

"Harry Potter, if this tournament goes as apparently planned," Reto muttered, face still buried in his book. He looked up from his notes at the sudden silence to meet the bemusement on everyone else's face. "What? Come on, they've been trying to kill the kid since he was a baby. What makes you think this is any different?"

"In that case, it's probably the Defense professor again," Uchiha Hidetada muttered, approaching the table with his bag stuffed with the rubber frogs and another Uchiha brother, Tsukiya, trailing behind. The fourth year Gryffindor scowled, looking eerily like his eldest brother, for all that they looked unlike— a fact highlighted with Hidetada's fuchsia frohawk and Tsyukia's purple curling locks— his hair even frizzing slightly in his annoyance. "So bloody done with all of that."

"It is getting a bit redundant, isn't it," Tsukiya mused, settling for sitting in Itama's lap, much to Hidetada's displeasure, and reading over his essay. "Like Itama copying everyone else's homework."

"Don't shit talk me while using me as a chair, Uchiha," Itama jabbed him with his quill. "It's called using your resources, alright? Like using you Uchiha as distractions."

"Do you Hogwarts people use your resources to get attention, too? It like being in a circus with all of you," some Beauxbatons boy interrupted, lips twisted in a condescending sneer. "First that child being chosen for the Tournament and then that pitiful display of magic—"

The boy's head fell into his breakfast before he suddenly toppled backwards out of his seat, feet going over his head as if someone had given him a really hard shove.

Kawarama glanced around, eyes catching, fixating on Mito's robe sleeve where what looked like the tip of her wand was poking out. A serene smile played on the older girl's lips even as she kept her eyes firmly on the open notebook in her hands. He would've shuddered had it not been obvious, cursing that Mito was too nice to give the snob a taste of the nasty runes they knew she kept in that book.

"My nose," the boy cried out, sounding awfully nasally, clamping onto it and staring up at them in horror. "The food's stuck in my nose!"

Mito perked up suddenly, serene smile gone. "They should put it in food."

"Wha—" the boy shot them a baleful glare. "Put what in—"

Saying nothing more, she snatched up her stuff, hurrying out the hall, wand weaving a pattern in the air as the door closed behind her, the food in the boy's nose rocketing out onto his trousers, staining the material with grease. He stared at them reproachfully, lip pulled into a snarl, and that was all it took for the tense air to dissolve into laughter.

Watching the boy thunder away only to be scolded by his own headmistress made it even worse. 

Touka cleared her throat, struggling to recapture her breath after laughing so hard. "Never mind. I think we'll be the ones to die first. Mito's too smart to let those assholes get caught."

Sighing, Kawarama flopped against Reto. It was going to be a very long school year.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So uhh this should be an interesting chapter
> 
> Thanks again to @QueenPotema for being such an awesome beta!

"I thought we were going to the library," Izuna hissed, digging his heels into the stone floor as Hashirama pulled him towards the stairs. A prickle of discomfort tingled along his spine. "The library's on the first floor. What are you doing?"

They hadn't talked in over a week, too uncomfortable and uncertain to even look at each other and now they were going to play matchmaker? To their brothers, of all people, who at least knew where they stood with one another.

He couldn't say the same about Hashirama and himself.

"We can't go there! It'll be too obvious what we're doing," Hashirama said impatiently. He paused, looking up at the staircases crisscrossing above them and muttered, "Well, this will take too long."

Without another word, Hashirama pulled his wand from the holder he kept on his leg and began waving it through the air, fragments of Latin and spells Izuna couldn't recognize only partially clear through the loud flapping of Hashirama's robe sleeves. In front of them, the silvery outline of a largely sized cylinder with a rounded doorway took shape, shooting upwards through the middle of all the staircases. Somewhere along the top, about the seventh floor, if Izuna was counting right, another doorway formed. Hashirama smiled.

"In we go!" He cheered.

"What? No!" Izuna struggled, helpless to get away as Hashirama pulled him through the ground-level doorway and into the cylinder despite the older boy only using one hand rather than both. He despaired. Of course he brother would befriend this non-human beast of a man. Of course it would be his luck to be stuck with him.

The door seemed to seal behind them and suddenly it felt as if the weight of the world disappeared. Izuna slammed his hands onto the sides of the cylinder, gripping desperately at the smooth wall. His feet weren't touching the ground. He snapped his head to the side to look at Hashirama. The brunette's feet were also off the ground, coming even further up as Hashirama folded his feet together. Izuna watched, poleaxed, at the way gravity no longer held them, their bodies slowly floating upwards, the silver of the cylinder disappearing as they traveled further, giving way to the solid ground beneath them.

"Oh, this is still too slow." Hashirama bit his lip thoughtfully. Suddenly he smiled, "I have an idea! Brace yourself!"

He flicked his wand, another unknown spell that Izuna couldn't bother deciphering slipping past his lips. Air flooded beneath them, surging like a wave and Izuna's stomach lurched, feeling much like it had gotten stuck in his throat, as they were sent hurtling upwards, passing the corridors and staircases so quickly that they blurred.

A second, maybe two and they jerked to a stop. In front of them, another rounded doorway appeared, opening directly onto the seventh floor. Izuna discreetly wiped the water from his eyes, hiding beneath his hair for a moment as Hashirama casually swished his wand, planks of wood slamming into place before them, laying out in a walkway to attach the cylinder to the corridor floor. Rails sprung up along the edge and Hashirama stepped out onto the platform.

"Come on Izuna! Quickly now, I can't get Tobi's Anti-Gravity Upwards Traveling Tube to last very long," he turned around, pouting, before reaching for Izuna with a bright smile. "Hurry! You wouldn't want to fall now."

Izuna gulped, suddenly dizzy as he looked to the ground far too far sway from him, and let Hashirama pull him from the tube and onto the walkway, the silvery construction dissolving the moment he passed through the doorway. With a yelp, he clung to Hashirama's arm, squeezing his eyes shut and urging the man forwards onto the more solid floor.

"Oh don't worry!" Hashirama soothed, even as he readjusted his grip to hold Izuna more carefully. "I'm rather good at Arresto Momentum. I wouldn't have let you get hurt."

Izuna stayed silent, caring nothing for platitudes while he still hovered over his death.

As soon as they were safe, the walkway vanished behind them, he struck out, slamming his fist into Hashirama's arm with a resounding thud, knuckles smarting from the force. Hashirama winced, stepping away from him with crocodile tears flooding his eyes.

"What was that for?" He whimpered.

"I _hate_ heights, you absolute bark-for-brains fool!" Izuna snapped.

"But how was I—" Hashirama froze, guilt crossing his face. "Oh."

"Yeah. 'Oh.'" Izuna turned away, hiding the hurt that threatened to overwhelm him. Hashirama was the only person he personally shared that information with and he hadn't even bothered to remember. "Let's get going."

So what if Hashirama didn't remember? Izuna didn't care. It's not like Hashirama ever remembered anything about him. He probably didn't even remember the birthday gift Izuna got him.

A traitorous voice whispered that it's because he wasn't his brother, only a shadow to the flame Madara was. Whispered that Hashirama had gushed about horrible gifts he'd received as if they were the best thing in the world and that's how much he didn't like Izuna, that he hadn't even uttered a single word.

_He doesn't care._

Izuna shook the thought from his head. It didn't matter. They weren't anything. They were barely friends! Just...associates, made to be around each other because Izuna happened to be related to Hashirama's best friend. Izuna's confession meant nothing.

"Izuna, wait. Please," Hashirama spoke softly. "Can we talk?"

Izuna stayed facing away. If he looked now, he might....he felt like he might cry. He didn't want Hashirama's pity or stupid apologies. He didn't like Izuna, so what? Who cares?

"I loved the gift, you know. Really," Hashirama carefully stepped closer.

"Great. Can we go now? We have a spell or shit to look for."

"And I thought about what you said. It's just—"

Here it comes, he thought. The inevitable rejection.

"Could we talk privately? I've so much to say and explain," Hashirama pleaded, fingers skimming Izuna's sleeve.

Izuna spun around, furious. "For what, Hashirama? So you could take longer to reject me? Just get over with!"

This was getting ridiculous. He didn't want to keep pining or hoping. He just— just needed a fucking answer so he could make his peace with it and move the hell on.

"There is nothing to 'just get over'!" Hashirama snapped. Izuna recoiled, wide-eyed, stepping back as if he'd been slapped.

His shock mirrored itself on Hashirama's face, the older boy reaching out again as though to touch him and letting his hands drop instead. Hashirama shook his head, running his hand through his hair to brush it away from his face, breathing deeply as if to forcibly calm himself. When he began again, his voice was softer, gentle the was Hashirama always was, and tinged with a hint of guilt as he stared at Izuna through his lashes.

"What do you think of me? Of yourself, Izuna? You're not some type of game to me, alright? It's more complicated than that. It's not a rejection, I just. I just need time to explain" Hashirama sighed. "That's why I jumped on your idea actually. I couldn't think of any other way to get us alone long enough."

Izuna bit his lip. Part of him coiled with dread, the other wanted desperately to hope and he couldn't decide which to follow. The brave thing would be to listen to what Hashirama had to say, accept it all, and move onwards. But he was no Gryffindor.

"Hashirama—" he began.

The older boy must have seen the hesitation on his face because he rushed to cast a _Muffliato._

"I'm in a relationship," Hashirama blurted out, wincing a second later after the words had left his lips. "But we want you to be a part of it. If you want, I mean. You don't have to, it's not so common, and your family's more old-fashioned so it probably seems a little immoral or something but it's not! It's just love and understanding and it takes some time but what relationship doesn't, you know, so we'd like you to give it a chance but we won't blame you for not wanting to. I mean, we'll be sad because we both like you but that doesn't make obligated or whatever, we'd never force you into what you don't want but we'd really like you to consider— and I'm....I'm sending a lot of mixed signals right now, aren't I?"

Izuna could only nod, bewildered and a little overwhelmed even as Hashirama's face burned red. Hashirama was in a relationship? And he actually managed to keep it a secret? _And_ they wanted him to be a part of that? This was all so confusing.

"Who—?" He murmured. That question took most precedence. Who could've stolen Hashirama's heart while the rest of them carried on obliviously.

"Can we...Can we go somewhere more private for all of that?" Hashirama squeaked. He was fluttering his hands by his face, pressing his palms to his cheeks as if to hide or shy away the rouge color staining them.

"Uh sure. Just...where?" Izuna looked around. The seventh floor was usually emptier than the rest, only a few higher level courses took place in the classrooms here and most people didn't bother or couldn't manage taking the classes anyways, leaving them with little students and infrequent meetings. There were a couple classrooms they could use but whether that was safe given the subjects taught in them was another story.

"Oh!" Hashirama said. "Just down here."

Hurrying down the corridor, Hashirama came to a stop right in front of a tapestry Barnabas the Barmy— a rather wretched looking thing if Izuna ever thought he saw art— and grinned.

"Okay, just stand here—" Hashirama carefully moved Izuna closer to the portrait. "There."

Hashirama stepped closer to the opposite wall and began pacing back and forth. "Alright, I need somewhere private with books on magic binding, I need somewhere private with books on magic binding, I need somewhere private with books on magic binding."

Now Izuna knew Hashirama had a habit of stating the obvious just as well as he knew Hashirama often twisted his hands or messed with his hair, rambling, whenever he was nervous or agitated. This however, this pacing and repetitive talking, this was new. And very, very odd. Izuna glanced down the corridor. Good, there was no one to see the buffoon he'd fallen for.

"Hashirama—" he began, feeling suddenly tired. There was literally a classroom not half a minute from here. They could put up some wards, drop some silencing spells, it would all be fine. So what was the older boy—

Suddenly the brick wall began melting away, much like fire set to the center of parchment and spreading out to the edges, gray stone disappearing to reveal dark oak wood. Izuna fell silent as large double-doors appeared, set into the wall beneath layers of detailed stone arches that didn't match anywhere else in the castle.

Hashirama peeked inside and, with a triumphant hoot, swung the door open to reveal an extensive library— rows and rows of tall bookshelves lining either side of the room, drawing focus to the fireplace and sitting area placed against the back wall. Two chandeliers with candles dangled from the ceiling, somehow emitting enough light to be bright and still cozy without needing the thousands of flickering flames as in the Great Hall.

"What the hell? Is this—" Izuna reached out to brush his hand against the door, poking his hand through the entrance to check to see if it was really real. He shouldn't be surprised, not really, not after living in this castle for six years and having grown up with magic, but some things still startled him. Not to mention Hashirama, for as sweet as he appeared, was wont to pranking Izuna— little things that had drawn him closer and had made him so sure the older boy liked him, too.

"Don't worry! It's not a trick this time!" Hashirama reassured, already heading to a bookshelf.

"You say that every time," Izuna grumbled, approaching another shelf, much to Hashirama's surprise, and began perusing the titles as the doors shut behind him. Whatever Hashirama had to say, Izuna knew the older boy would feel better if he wasn't watching for Izuna's emotions. "We got trapped in that room for nearly two days last time!"

"....You're not going to look at me while we talk?" Hashirama asked, sounding a little sad.

"I think it'd be better if I don't," Izuna replied, pulling out a book to skim the contents. This one seemed promising. Adding it to the growing stack in his arms, he chanced a glance at Hashirama and turned away quickly. "You should probably start explaining."

Silence met him for a long moment. Concerned, Izuna turned only to find Hashirama standing right in front of him.

"Your eyes are more honest than your words. I'd like to have an honest conversation, Izuna," he said, almost scarily solemn. It made something heavy, warm, lay deep in Izuna's stomach, almost like comfort but also something so perturbing, it sent a shiver up his back. With a nod, he let Hashirama lead him to the sitting area, hesitantly settling into the overly plush chair Hashirama directed him to. He could help but hum, pleased, sinking into the armchair.

Hashirama set his books down and perched at the edge of the table, reaching to hold Izuna's hands in his. "I have been in a relationship with Mito for a little over a year now."

Izuna swallowed harshly, schooling his face so no expression would show.

Hashirama smiled, a little sadly. "Your eyes, Izuna. You can't hide them."

He gently brushed Izuna's hair behind his ear. "I've liked you, too, though. And Mito, after I told her of your confession—"

"You told her?" Izuna leapt from his seat but Hashirama didn't let go. He felt like he'd been violated, the too intimate parts of him bared to someone he didn't want to show them to.

"Of course I did! But Izuna, listen—" Hashirama pulled him closer, holding him in a loose embrace. "Mito would like to get to know you. She and I, we'd like if we could try a relationship together."

Izuna blinked. "All of us?"

"Yeah, if that's alright with you?" Hashirama fiddled with his hair.

"I—," Izuna wasn't sure what to say. Of course he'd noticed Mito— the other Slytherin was too clever and beautiful to miss— but he'd been focused on pursuing Hashirama. He hadn't thought about her that way. But now that the option was there— "I'll uh think about it."

"Really?" Hashirama asked, making sure to keep eye contact. At Izuna's nod, he cheered. "Alright! Well uh, until then, let's look for a spell, yeah?"

With another nod, the two boys began sifting through the books, highlighting and noting spells that they thought would be most suitable. Which is how Mito found them half an hour later— a half hour that Izuna spent desperately trying and failing to not to get _too_ into the idea of dating Hashirama and Mito lest it not even work out— the doors opening for her without much trouble.

"I wanted to give you two some time alone. I take it all has been discussed?" She asked, coming to sit beside Hashirama, fixing her dark eyes on Izuna.

When they gave their affirmations, she continued, "And what do you think, Izuna?"

He felt his face flush under their joined gazes. "I'm interested."

Mito drew her wand, idly tapping it against her fingertips. "Even if I told you I'm trans?"

Izuna felt himself redden more. He couldn't help but wonder if she was always this upfront. He shook his curiosity away, nodding. "Why does it matter? I like men and women and you're a very beautiful woman."

Mito stopped tapping her wand, a sly smile spreading across her lips. "Good. I'd like a date the next Hogsmeade trip, if that's amendable to you."

By this point, the younger boy felt like he was about to swallow his tongue, how eager he was to nod and agree. He'd have to find out more of Mito's likes and dislikes if this were to go right. Izuna knew she liked runes and inhumanly spicy foods and—

"Wait, why did you pull out your wand?" He blinked at her, a little (a lot) scared at the sharp grin she gave him.

"Just in case it did make you uncomfortable. We live in a prejudiced society, Izuna, I rather not have anyone knowing things that don't concern them," Mito said primly, delicately resting her wand in her lap. "It is troubling enough being from an old Pureblood family and caring for someone who is not only a halfblood but also whose parents were publicly known to be involved in the Order of Phoenix. I think that's plenty leverage, don't you?"

He did. More than enough leverage and information for Voldemort's followers to chase after. More than enough for them to hurt, torture, and kill for. So yes, the precaution was valid, a necessity, given the rising tensions. Still Izuna gawked. That wasn't what caught his attention, not really. But he couldn't help it. "You were going to _Obliviate_ me?"

His voice pitched a bit in his surprise and awe, and he cursed himself for being so obvious. At Mito's casual nod, the blush on his cheeks returned even stronger, a blush that made Hashirama and Mito's gaze darken in interest.

"Oh, that's an interesting reaction, Izuna," Mito practically purred. Izuna wanted to throw himself off the Astronomy Tower or maybe beside the two older kids. "Very interesting."

Oh, Merlin. His brother was right. He really did have a concerning attraction to dangerous people. He cleared his throat, diverting his gaze before he embarrassed himself any further. This was something new to them and he needed to calm himself the fuck down. Really, it would ruin his reputation if anyone found out he flustered so easily. _As easy as Nii-san_ , he thought with a cringe.

Taking a deep breath, he opened the book to the place he saved.

"I was thinking this spell would best suit our purposes. It forces them to be within five feet of each other but doesn't last longer than a day. It was once used on prisoners when they were being transported, keeping them leashed together by charmed ankle bracelets," he frowned, tapping his finger onto the page. "Stepping out of that range would cause the recipient pain though. I don't think we want to do that."

Hashirama shuddered. "They'd kill us, brutally. I saw one that formed a barrier around the bonded persons but others stepping within that barrier disrupt the magic in a way that causes it to lash out and hurt the intruder."

He scrunched his nose. "I just want them to get along. Without causing more trouble than they already do on their own."

Mito pulled a thin booklet from her robes, flipping it open and positioning it so both boys could see. "Perhaps this would be suitable then?"

"That's brilliant," Izuna breathed.

"It's perfect!" Hashirama did a little shimmy.

"Can you imagine their faces?" The three of them spoke simultaneously, laughing, before a hush fell over them.

"Oh look, we're already talking at the same time," Hashirama preened, flapping his hands as he gushed. "I think we're off to the start of something good."

That warm feeling from before returned, stronger and more content, filling Izuna like a perfectly tuned heating charm. He could get used to the feeling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, hope all is going well!
> 
> I'd love to hear what you guys thinkkk


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Touches topics that are pretty serious like slavery and so forth.
> 
> Thank you @QueenPotema for being awesome and beta'ing insanely quick so that I could update even though I completely dragged my feet with this chapter and @sleepysensei for Madara lol

Tobirama would not argue against those that claimed he was painfully oblivious at times. It was actually better that they thought that, if only so they wouldn't bother him unnecessarily, another defense when his anger or statuesque calm could not deter the advances. See, it wasn't so much that he didn't notice things as it was that he preferred not to, receding instead to the deep recesses of his mind, letting whatever thoughts that chose to hover at those times to carry him away.

However, there still were things that drew his attention away, things even he couldn't bring himself to ignore. His brothers or friends, for example. Or worse, his brother and friends.

Tobirama scowled down at his pumpkin juice. He had no idea what Izuna, Anija, and Mito thought they were playing at but he wasn't _blind_. All that time they were spending together-- stowing away in hidden corridors and speaking whisper-soft to each other, little glances and disappearing for hours-- it was suspicious, to say the least. Trouble (for him), at worst.

It was fine, though. He'd get his answers. Mito may not have a loose tongue but Hashirama could barely keep a secret from him and Izuna was.... persuadable. It just took the right timing.

He glanced up, biting back a grin when he saw his friend walk into the Grand Hall. Alone. Right timing indeed.

How would he convince him? Bribery? Blackmail? Tobirama thought for a moment. Izuna was struggling with History of Magic-- Tobirama could be of help, especially with the upcoming paper. Or, he thought for a moment longer, he did have pictures from the Halloween party-- that brief stint when Madara got overly annoyed and hexed Izuna into a rather gaudy princess gown complete with colorful bows, beads, and a bedazzled corset at Tobirama's behest now permanently printed onto countless photographs.

But, he supposed, it really all depended on Izuna's....will to be cooperative.

All of that went out the window the moment the shorter boy plopped down into the seat across from him, hands already grabbing at the miso soup and pickles.

"What is that ridiculous thing you are wearing?" Tobirama asked incredulously, staring at the self-proclaimed S.P.E.W. badge clipped to Izuna's robes. He winced, cursing himself. That was not the important question at hand. Still, he huffed, gesturing for Izuna to explain quickly since the other boy's mouth had already dropped open to talk.

"Oh! It's a club that Granger girl started for the welfare of house elves," Izuna explained around a mouthful of soup. "The Society for the Protection of Elfish Welfare-- it's means to promote their rights and possibly start a movement towards their liberation."

"Well that's stupid," Itama huffed, collapsing into the seats beside Izuna with Theodore Nott— a quiet friend of Itama's that seemed rather inappropriately sorted into Slytherin. "The elves don't exactly want to be free, do they?"

"So, we should keep them enslaved because they don't know life without enslavement?" Reto drawled, head still stuck in a book as Kawarama dragged him over to sit next to Tobirama. "Kind of sounds like letting someone with Stockholm Syndrome stay with their captor because now they're attached. It's not exactly healthy, is it?"

"That's hardly the point!"

"Oh? It's not the point that elves are sentient creatures being horribly abused and people take it as granted?"

"The point is that you can't have a movement for something that isn't looking for one-- it's just patronizing and ineffective because it then has no real momentum to get it going. Unless the elves start feeling that way, no one else is really going to stand behind it," Itama argued. "Bloody waste of time, if anything."

Kawarama sighed, already looking bored. He rested his head against Reto's shoulder, pulling the book from the older boy's hand and closing it. "I wrote an entire thesis on Muggle movements-- this one speaks in the same volume."

"And?" Reto turned to let Kawarama brace more comfortably on him, casually messing with the boy's ear. "What are the problems with it, love?"

Kawarama hummed, eyes slipping shut.

"Well it's not like Hermione Granger really has any resources. She's smart but she doesn't know any people in power, nor does she have the wealth to fuel any sort of actual movement. Ideas can change many things, but only if people are really wanting to adopt yours and she has no attributes that would bring the masses to her side."

"And she's not going to have any at the rate the Golden Trio like to do things-- they make more enemies than friends, really. They're quick to judge and quicker to get themselves in rather unnecessary trouble" Theodore said. "Tsukiya and Hidetada were telling me even some other Gryffindors don't like them."

"To put it simply, she's a Muggleborn and hardly seen as human and she's fighting for a caste that is most definitely not seen as human, even by the more liberal Purebloods. No one's going to give a damn about a "nobody" fighting for a "nobody”," Tobirama explained impatiently as he packed his things into his bag and slung it over his shoulder. Standing up rather abruptly, he grabbed Izuna's shoulder. "Now, if you'd excuse us, Izuna and I need to talk."

"We do?" Izuna swallowed his soup quickly, snatching the pickles desperately as Tobirama pulled him from the seat and led him out the Great Hall, squawking in protest whenever he managed to swallow down another bite of food before shoving another mouthful in. A few people looked at them oddly, worried perhaps for the glare on Tobirama's face, but it was students that he was sure were not Hogwarts students.

If they were, well, they shouldn't be so surprised. Fights between Tobirama and Izuna that led them to dragging each other elsewhere weren't so uncommon, after all.

"Is this about talking to Hermione Granger? I know you think she 'lacks inspirations and novelty' but she really needed the support--" Izuna yelped as Tobirama shoved him into the nearest broom closet, stepping in behind him before locking and muffling the door.

"I don't care about the girl," Tobirama flapped his hand in disregard. "Sweet sentiment, probably will fail. Sad, really--"

"Oh god, Tobi, this isn't how you express your feelings--"

"But I want to know-- _what?_ " Tobirama looked at his friend in horror, feeling the urge to retch hit him suddenly. "You think I-- you? Of all people? Merlin's sake, that's like, like, fancying _Kawarama_." He stepped as far away from the Uchiha as he could. "I think I'm going to be sick, you disgusting cretin--"

" _I'm_ disgusting?" Izuna jabbed a finger into Tobirama's chest. " _You_ shove me in a closet and--"

Tobirama bat his hand away, slapping at Izuna to give him some space. "Because I want to know what's going on with you, Mito, and Anija!" He would deny the pitching of his voice until the day he died. Powering through, he yanked his wand from the invisible holster strapped by his wrist, tapping the stick against his temple. "Not because I-- Merlin, I need to cleanse my mind. Or yours. Who the fuck thinks shoving someone in a closet is some sort of opportunity for a confession?"

Izuna blinked. "That's...that's a good point. It is a little creepy."

"A _little?_ "

The other boy raised his hands defensively. "Fine! A lot creepy. But you're the one that shoved me in here!"

"One question," Tobirama grit out, resisting the urge to strangle his friend. "I had _one_ question."

"Right. About Mito, Hashirama, and me." Izuna nodded, as if to himself, before rifling in his bag and pulling out a hairbrush.

Tobirama waited, watching the boy brush his hair for a long moment. ".... well?"

A pause. "Well what?"

Snarling, Tobirama reached for Izuna's neck just as the door swung open, a broader body crashing into his and sending him towards the floor with a thud. A quick movement and suddenly the other person was beneath him, taking the impact and letting Tobirama fall against their chest instead, legs sprawled out around the boy's hips. Warm hands caught his head and upper back protectively just before they met the ground.

Tobirama grimaced at the pain his knees, the stinging a sure sign of at least a bruise, before looking at the other boy.

Uchiha Madara was staring up at him worriedly. Tobirama flushed, hands giving out in his embarrassment and sending his face right back into Madara's chest.

"Ah, fuck!" He grumbled, pushing himself back up-- and Madara had the perfect shoulder to brace and leverage himself against, solid and strong from summers spent interning at magical creature reserves-- just as something smacked his head and sent him colliding with Madara once again.

"Oops! Sorry Tobirama!" Hashirama's voice squeaked. "That's some water for you two. Try and get along! We'll be back for you later!"

Tobirama was just able to finally get off of Madara, just barely able to catch the devious smirks on Mito's and Izuna's lips as the door slammed shut, telltale clicks and changes in air signaling them being hexed in.

He launched himself forward, hands patting at the ground. "Did he take my wand? That _bastard._ Uchiha _\--"_

 _"_ Mito stole mine before they tossed me in here," Madara shot to his feet, rattling the door handle.

"They actually locked us in here! That fanfic reading/writing hare-brained cabbage patch--Hashirama! Let us out or so help me, everyone will find those fics you submitted to that Muggle magazine! Hashirama!"

"...You read fanfiction?" Tobirama interrupted his own seething to stare up at Madara. "You read _Anija's_ fanfiction? Merlin, you've awful taste in everything, don't you?"

Madara stopped banging his fists on the door, turning around and flailing. "Hey! Your brother's a pretty good writer--"

"He thinks Khan and Spock from Star Trek would make a cute couple! They were enemies!"

Madara stilled, dropping down to sit and rest his back against the door instead, heaving a resigned sigh as he did. "Yeah. Your brother's that type of guy-- likes those antagonistic relationships, you know?"

"Like what? That relationship hardly makes sense," Tobirama protested, settling against the shelves behind him and grabbing the water bottle.

"Like, say Mercutio from Romeo and Juliet lived but he still killed Paris who was very close to Juliet, brother-figure or something, and Juliet now has a reason to hate him and want him dead but she doesn't for the sake of Romeo who is her closest friend. And Romeo obviously doesn't want Mercutio dead because they're like brothers so now his only choice to try and keep Juliet placated and happy so she and Mercutio wouldn't try to kill each other. In this scenario, he would "ship"-- that's the fan term for supporting a certain relationship-- Juliet with Mercutio."

"...That seems a little impractical," Tobirama huffed, sipping at the water. "Why not just ship Juliet with Romeo?"

"Because they don't hate each other? That's the appeal, Senju." Madara reached for the water, nodding gratefully as he drank some.

Tobirama licked his lips, praying his skin had returned to its normal pale and would stay that way. He shouldn't humor this, he _shouldn't_ but-- "So if I hated you and you hated me..?"

"Your brother would ship us." The Uchiha sounded exasperated. "All of his ships are like that actually-- and they still manage to be interesting somehow."

The younger boy's heart skipped a beat and he mentally berated himself. This was a what-if scenario. Just because he liked Madara and argued with him just for the sake of it at times didn't mean that Hashirama would somehow manage to successfully play matchmaker. He cleared his throat, speaking before Madara could catch his unusual silence.

"Even though you two are best friends?"

Madara eyed him curiously, smirking, leaning a bit closer.

"You thinking about writing fanfiction now, Senju?" Madara shook his head in disbelief, long hair swishing like a curtain in gentle breeze and Tobirama just wanted to touch it (Merlin, where was his self-control), laughing. "Here's a tip: that "hate" can be used for a lot of plot development. It's a good chance to make it seem like you don't feel good enough for my attention or maybe I am misjudging you, all those sorts of things."

Tobirama nodded, a mischievous grin pulling at his lips as a thought crossed his mind. "Do you write fanfiction as well, Uchiha?"

"What? _No_ \--" Madara sounded almost horrified, hands raised in surrender.

"Anija goes by what again?" Tobirama snapped his fingers, acting as if he were thinking. "Aspen Pillar! That's it! So you'd go by something like Fire Speckles or--"

"Oh my god--" Madara snorted, chuckling. "I just edit your brother's, you ass--"

"I've seen you writing--" Something about the pinking of Madara's face made Tobirama's head spin, made him want to scoot closer to taste the blush against his lips.

" _Poetry,"_ Madara gulped more water, looking away from Tobirama in indignation. "There's a difference, thank you."

"Poetry like what?" And somehow the question came out breathily, like Tobirama was entranced, his mind muddled and wanting nothing more than for him to be closer to the boy he'd been crushing on for so long now.

"Like- like..." Madara's own eyes seemed to glaze a bit and even he seemed to want to move closer, nearer to Tobirama than they've accustomed themselves to. He looked… _enchanted_ as he brushed his fingers through Tobirama's hair, breathlessly so, and still he forced himself to speak. "The light in the midst of darkness, it burns brighter than my soul. And doth the angel speaks to me; its home was where I could not go."

The feeling of Madara's hand cupping gently around the back of his neck had Tobirama startling, mind suddenly, painfully, clear. "Uh, Uchiha?"

"These words they whisper-- I could not believe-- how they beckon as they hurt! For they pierced my heart, turning solid to sieve, for my love was of so little worth."

"I'm sure that's not true..." Tobirama said weakly, trying to slip out of Madara's hold. "I hold you in high regard."

He almost slapped himself, cursing how his brain-to-mouth filter seemed to be lacking. How was this even happening? He was never like this and neither was Madara-- he glanced at the water bottle suspiciously.

"You frustrate me so much, but I don't ever want to be away from you," Madara murmured, resting his forehead against Tobirama’s, and drawing the younger boy's attention back to himself. "I just worry, you get so reckless at times and I—"

The door swung open, the startled gasp doing nothing to get Madara to let go.

"Oooooh what do we have here? Mada and Tobi-ama kissing in the closet, guess they forgot they needed to lock it!" Peeves peered down at them, cackling. "Oh, if Filch were to hearrrrrrr--"

Tobirama cringed, desperately wanting his wand. Anything to get the poltergeist to just shut up before someone heard.

“Shut up, Peeves!” He snapped, pulling Madara up to stand with him. “Before I tell the Baron it was you who painted that awful picture of him in the girls’ bathrooms the other day.”

Peeves gasped, eyes comically wide and hands coming to cover his mouth dramatically. “Oh no, you couldn’t! You wouldn’t!” He dropped his hands, smiling deviously. “You wouldn’t tell the Baron something he already knows!”

“Oh, but does he know you flirted with the Lady in Gray?”

The poltergeist stilled. “I did no such thing.”

“Doubt the Baron would believe that.”

“You wouldn’t.” Orange eyes narrowed and the little man began floating backwards.

“If you don’t leave right now--!” Tobirama threatened as he stepped closer to the open door.

But he didn’t get to finish his sentence. Lamplight eyes peered around the door and--with what could only be described as wrongly malicious, especially on a cat-- Mrs. Norris took off down the corridor, meowing loudly. Panicking, Tobirama grabbed Madara's hand and yanking him along as he darted out from the closet, taking off down the opposite corridor.

He could hear Peeves howling with laughter behind them, shouting, “Oh they’re over here! Over here and going that way!” and scowled.

As soon as this was over, as soon as they were in the clear, the Baron would find out about that supposed flirtation Peeves had done and the bloody poltergeist would regret messing with him. He sped up. They just needed to get away first.

"Careful Tobirama," Madara urged, purposefully dragging his feet to slow down to force Tobirama to slow down as well. "It's dangerous to run in the halls. You could get hurt!"   
  
“We’re going to be a lot worse than hurt if Filch catches us,” he hissed, tugging harder. “I’ve enough detention to last me a lifetime, thank you.”

They raced along clumsily, feet hitting the stone much too loudly to be discreet, and professors were starting to peek out of their classrooms, only barely missing them as they ducked into the shadows and darker corridors. Filch was racing behind them, his eager mutterings and heavy steps thudding as he got closer, undisturbed in his pursuit as they were as he didn’t need to keep hiding. But they were almost there, almost at the Trophy Room where Filch wouldn’t look—

Suddenly fog flooded the corridor, so thick it felt difficult to breathe, let alone see where they were going.

“Here,” Someone whispered in a hushed breath, their hands shoving something against Tobirama’s chest and he fumbled with it, barely keeping hold of his wand before the tip of another wand tapped beside his eyes, clearing his vision. Izuna, Mito, and Hashirama were standing in front of them, wands out. “Wait a moment.”

Filch cursed loudly, stumbling. “Wait until I get my hands on you lot! I’ll talk to the headmaster for this! Maybe he’ll let me finally—OW!”

The sound of crashing metal against the ground rang out and ore doors were swinging open.

“What is the meaning of--?” A professor yelled.

Izuna waved his wand, murmuring quietly. Tobirama watched as murky water puddled on the ground, the viscous drops latching onto Filch’s legs, twining like tendrils of rope until he couldn’t move. Beside him, other professors were experiencing the same as the water creeped across the stone, wrapping around each and every person it came in contact with—a task made easier as they all stumbled blindly in the fog, wands slashing as the air helplessly.

As more and more people got stuck, the five of them needed only to make eye contact to silently reach an agreement and begin tiptoeing away, staying quiet until they had finally gotten far away enough to not hear the commotion they’d left behind.  
  
Tobirama glared at the three that got them into this mess, holding it until Hashirama and Izuna both withered under his gaze and even Mito looked abashed. “If I weren’t already late for class, I would have a lot to say but don’t think for a moment that this is over.”

Huffing, he spun on his heel, leaving them behind and stalking down the corridor towards his class, already trying to figure out how to get into class undetected. Perhaps a Disillusionment charm and slight memory altering spell? But then, the Baron didn’t really take attendance so maybe it wouldn’t even matter.

“Tobirama, wait! Don’t—” Hashirama called, but Tobirama ignored him, picking up his pace before his brother could drag him even further into something stupid.

Something seemed to grab his lungs, tightly, and he fell to his knees. Pain ricocheted through his body, radiating everywhere and nowhere all at once. Behind him he heard a similar thud and weak gasp. Warm hands quickly wrapped around him, lifting to him with unfair ease and returning him to where he’d been standing, each step closer seeming to echo a dredge of pain leaving his body until it vanished completely when he was placed right back beside Madara who’d also been kneeling.

“What did you do, Anija?” Tobirama bit out, heart thumping in the shadow of ache still in his bones and slight fear. He’d never felt such acute pain like that before, as if it were natural and not magically induced as was the way with pain-causing spells. Possibly something he couldn’t break out of, not readily as one would when hexed or cursed.

Something guilty crossed Hashirama’s face, fingers twisting frantically. “We just—the water—it was an accident really. It was meant to be harmless!”

“We put a mild binding potion in the water and we think we confused it with another one so if you two are separated, your organs will start failing until you’re either together again or you die,” Izuna interrupted, grimacing. His hair, now that Tobirama had time to look, was messy, like he’d ran his hands through it and yanked, lips bitten until they were stained red with what had to be dry blood.

“It was meant for you guys to just get along!” Hashirama protested weakly. “And it wouldn’t have worked if you two didn’t already have feelings for—"

Mito cleared her throat delicately and Hashirama’s mouth snapped shut. “Either way, we’re already working on a remedy but we’ll need to address this with Dumbledore. It should be fine as long you two are well-accommodated.”

Tobirama fell silent, too shocked to speak. That pain was organ failure. Massive, instant, and all because, all because--

"They bonded us together," Madara's face went almost scarily blank as he looked at Tobirama. The Uchiha laughed, sounding a tad demented. "Bonded us together. To the point where we could _die._ They really think this is some sort of fucking fanfic--"

"Well now, Madara--" Hashirama laughed nervously even though his eyes were glistening, shining with guilt and sorrow.

Madara lurched upwards and grabbed Hashirama by the collar, shoving him against the wall. "The fucking audacity! I should—Merlin I-- How's this for an ending, you insufferable, unimaginative bastards, I will kill you and--"

“Maybe...maybe we should just get Dumbledore,” Tobirama said blankly, even as his mind reeled. “There isn’t much we really can do.”

“Isn’t much--?!” Madara squawked.

Tobirama stumbled up shakily, nearly losing his footing if not for Madara jumping forward to catch him. Still Tobirama recoiled, as if burned, and shook his head at their concern. “We need to talk to Dumbledore.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did I call all of us Madatobi shippers and the like out? YES hahahahahah
> 
> As for Tobi's reaction. I wanted him to show that he is having a hard time coming to terms with everything-- I mean, it's serious. Him brushing it off would've been wild, I think.
> 
> Anyways hope you guys are staying safe! Updates may be a little slow as school is restarting and my course load wants me dead lol Good luck to everyone going back to school! You got this! Before that mayhem starts-- I'd love to hear what your thoughts are on this chapter! How do you feel about the three different POVs? These are the ones the story will be told in so which was your favorite and who would you like to see/hear more of?

**Author's Note:**

> Some of you may have read my other work and noticed that 'Arrangements and Rearrangements' and 'See Me Through Another's Eyes' have been deleted. I do intend to get them rewritten but I was at a point where I didn't want to look at them because I was that unhappy with the results. Hope I haven't disappointed anyone too much and feel free to drop any questions/comments regarding them on my other fics :)
> 
> That being said, what do you guys think about this so far? I want your thoughtssss XD


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